Reason 21: Anniversary
Minbari Space, 2277
Delenn anxiously watched John as he slowly toured the deck of the new White Star. The Grey Council had approved her request a year ago, the sleeker, lighter, faster White Star in which Delenn and John now stood the first in the new line of White Star fleets.
John's hands grazed the back of the captain's chair, the flat screen controls to the right of the chair, then he turned to Delenn. His eyes glistened with awe and masculine pleasure. Her mouth became dry. Her heart thudded loudly, his appreciative gaze holding her in place. Their eyes locked for an eternal beat.
Then her heart began to slow, permitting her ears to hear the words John was saying to her. "This is my ship?"
His question held a tone of disbelief, perhaps even surprise.
Delenn clasped her hands in front of her, her gray and blue silk robes soft and familiar against her skin. "Of course, John."
John shook his head as if he was amused then laughed. "You say that like it's no big deal to gift a person with a spankin' new, top of the line ship." He moved closer to Delenn, his hands finding hers. John took hold of her hands, lifted them to his mouth, and kissed the knuckles. "Most wives give their husbands ties or cologne, or hell, a little something special in the bedroom for an anniversary gift." He chuckled again, and Delenn didn't know whether he was pleased or displeased with the gift.
But the way he kept smiling down at her, her hands still raised to his mouth, John's actions didn't seem to match his words.
"Are you not pleased with the ship, John? I thought . . . well, I thought you would enjoy such a craft. It's large enough to hold a crew of six, but small enough to be managed by one person."
His smile never waned, nor the brightness of his eyes. In fact, they seemed to grow the longer John held Delenn, pulling her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist.
John leaned down, his warm breath a sensual tickle against Delenn's ear. He whispered, "Outside of your love and David, this is the best gift you have ever given me, honey." He kissed her ear, gently taking hold of her lobe then sucking. "It's perfect." Another kiss, to her neck this time. "Perfect, Delenn. Just." Kiss. "Like." Lick. "You." Bite.
And if John wasn't holding Delenn to him, she would've melted right at his feet, a puddle of tingling female need and want.
John lifted his head and took her mouth. No matter how many times they kissed, the feel of John's lips on hers, his tongue gliding in and out of her mouth, the minty, wet taste of him always sent shockwaves of pleasure through her. And this kiss was no different, the hot, hungry sensation dizzying and life affirming. Delenn wanted more.
She wrapped one hand around John's neck while lifting up on her toes, pulling herself closer while deepening the kiss.
John's moans into her mouth sent flutters of aching need to nipples already crushed so deliciously against strong, solid chest.
And before Delenn knew what was happening, John had divested them both of their clothing, set the ship's controls to circle Minbar, and claimed his captain's chair. With Delenn on top of him, straddling John in a most unladylike but erotic way.
"Now this is the way to christen a ship, Delenn," John said, his mouth and hands everywhere. Stroking, kissing, licking, caressing, holding her so tightly, loving her body so expertly that Delenn didn't need to look outside to see stars.
"Happy anniversary, John." Words softly spoken on a tide of pleasure. Only four left. Words resolutely unspoken on a sob of pain.